f the blind. When Bobby slipped still further into the warm
bright land of laziness, he abandoned even the effort of observation,
and amused himself by sifting rainbows through his eye-lashes.

"Bobby!" whispered Mr. Kincaid sharply.

He came to with a start, rapping his knee against the gunwale of the
boat. Mr. Kincaid held his hand up warningly, then pointed toward the
decoys. Bobby looked, and saw, preening its feathers calmly, a live duck
rising to the wavelets. Mr. Kincaid handed over two 22-short cartridges.

Bobby's breath caught with a gasp. His fingers trembling, he opened the
breach of the Flobert and loaded; then cautiously thrusting the muzzle
through an opening in the reeds, tried to aim. But his heart was
thumping like a hammer, and do his best he could not hold the wavering
sights in alignment. In vain he recalled all the many principles of
accurate shooting he had so laboriously acquired in his target practice.
Finally in desperation he pulled the trigger. The duck, with a startled
quack, sprang into the air.

"Got one!" chuckled Mr. Kincaid. "That furtherest decoy," he replied to
Bobby's unspoken question. "Saw the splinters fly. Must have over-shot
three feet."

Bobby, carrying with him the bitterest possible cud of failure, retired
within himself and gloomed angrily at the situation from all points of
view. He was completely out of conceit with himself. After he had
finished his performance, he naturally took to reviewing it and
recasting it in terms of success. If he'd only shot at first, before he
lost his breath! If he'd only remembered to get his hand away around the
grip of the rifle! If he'd only----

As though to test these theories, the Red Gods at this moment vouchsafed
him a wonderful favour. As he frowned steadily between the reeds, his
attention was dragged by a moving object from its abstractions to that
which he gazed on so unseeingly. He came to alertness with a snap. A
duck flying not a foot above the water swung in an awkward circle and
lit with a long furrowing splash not forty feet away.

Bobby glanced toward Mr. Kincaid. The latter was gazing at the sky, his
hands clasped behind his head. Cautiously Bobby reloaded with the other
cartridge, and again thrust the rifle muzzle between the reeds. His
entire mind was now occupied by a vengeful spirit against himself
because of his first miss. Therefore he had no room for
self-consciousness or nervousness. The sights aligned with p